


Mr. and Mrs. Snow

by Mikasaessucasaa



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Assassin AU, Belligerent Sexual Tension, F/M, Modern AU, Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29121189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikasaessucasaa/pseuds/Mikasaessucasaa
Summary: An assassin realizes that he’s married to a spy after a year and a half of marriage.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	Mr. and Mrs. Snow

Sansa’s legs weakened, and her hold on Jon’s hair tightened. If Jon kept doing that thing with his mouth, she would melt into a puddle of goo on their bed. Gods she was close. This was exactly what she needed after a long week of insufferable paperwork and debriefing, and Jon always gave what she needed so well. 

Oh gods she was going to come.

A ringing startled through the air.

No, no, no, no! 

“Don’t you dare stop Jon Snow!” Sansa shrieked.

Her coveted orgasm literally slipped through her fingers as Jon pulled away to pick up his phone. “Sorry love, need to find out if it’s a national emergency or not.”

Fuck Jon, and fuck his job! If Sansa had her way, his only job would be to stay between her legs and satisfy her. Unfortunately, Jon worked for the government. She didn’t know much about his actual job,  _ need to know only _ , he had said, but she knew enough how important it was to Jon and to Westeros. That didn’t stop her from being bitter. 

Fuck the government. 

Jon extricated himself from between her legs and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. He took one look at the caller ID, straightened out his pants, and headed out of the bedroom into the living area to take the call. Gods she was going to make him pay later. 

She sat up and straightened out her pencil skirt. They hadn't bothered to undress. Jon had been out of town for some super secret government thing for a week, and they had desperately needed each other. Although, he did ruin her stockings. Another thing she needed to scold him about - these were the expensive silk ones that she occasionally bought when she was treating herself.

Sansa rubbed her face in frustration. Sometimes Sansa had to wonder if Jon loved his job more than he loved her. She shook her head. She knew that wasn’t true. Jon loved her. A lot. More than anything. They had a whirlwind romance, but he’s never acted contrary to this. It was Sansa’s job to read people, and everything she’s read on Jon indicated that he loved her. She couldn’t be doubting this or else she would drive herself insane.

Sansa picked up her phone as a distraction. There was nothing interesting, but it would help pass the time. Based on the frustrated noises that Jon was making, he might be on the phone for a while.

Finally, after a couple more minutes, and a very loud, “Call me when you find something more conclusive Dany!” Ugh, of course Daenerys would be the one to call and stop them. She always had the strangest timing, and she was one of the few people that Sansa struggled to read well. 

Sansa got up and made her way to Jon. Perhaps he would need comforting, Sansa knew she sure as hell did after what he had stopped. She made her way to the living area and shivered. She loved this apartment, but it was hardly insulated with all of the large windows everywhere.

She found him leaning over the kitchen counter. His body was tense. He must have gotten really bad news. She walked up behind him without him noticing and wrapped her arms around him. He startled and maneuvered Sansa around so she was pressing forward into the kitchen counter and he was standing behind her, pulling her left arm back. That was new. 

Something hard pressed into her lower back, and she smirked. “Mmm babe, if you’re going to be rough, let’s go back to the bedroom. I don’t want you to be messing up my kitchen.”

Sansa heard the click and stiffened. That was not his cock pressing against her back.

“You’re an assassin?” he asked with an edge in his voice. Shit, shit, shit! Did she become compromised? Arya was going to murder her! She already thought that getting married to someone part of the government was plain dumb. Sansa mentally groaned. She hated it when Arya was right. Sansa loved her sister, but she can be so damned righteous about it.

Sansa started shaking, and she didn’t know if it was an act. She had been terrified of this moment since they moment they got married. “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Jon’s grip tightened. Okay, Jon was definitely not messing around. “Stop playing dumb Sansa. I know the truth.”

Sansa let out a harsh gasp. Jon had always ever known her as Alayne. She felt like her whole life was falling apart.

“Jon, I don’t like this. You’re hurting me,” Sansa continued, hoping to distract him as she reached out for the pan on the stove. 

It worked enough to cause him to hesitate and loosen his grip slightly. She gripped the handle tightly and twisted as hard as she could and hit him in the head. He was going to have a bump from that later, but after being denied an orgasm and the rough handling, Sansa couldn’t bring herself to care. Besides, she had to make sure her _husband_ didn’t kill her.

“Not an assassin honey,” she said as she ran off to the dining table where she had left her purse earlier. She rummaged through a hidden pocket and pulled out her glock. She pointed it at him before he had a chance to ready himself. “Why don’t we just have a nice quiet chat, and work this all out honey?”

Jon growled. “That hurt love.”

“Sorry baby, but you were being mean first. Now, why don’t you just raise both of your hands where I can see them, and no one is going to get anymore hurt tonight.”

“I highly doubt that,” Jon said, but he raised his hands up anyways.

Sansa’s phone started ringing. It was Arya’s ring tone. Shit. She rummaged through her back while keeping Jon in her peripheral vision. 

“Not a good time Arya,” Sansa said as she answered the phone. 

“Listen Sansa, Jon’s a Targ. Get out of there now!” What the fuck. Sansa’s been fucking a Targ! And worse she was married to one? Oh gods, what did she do to deserve this?

The revelation was enough of a distraction for Jon to rush at her and knock her into the ground. He tried to hold her down, but they were close in height and Sansa was struggling with all of her might. They rolled onto the ground a couple of times.

Her gun flew out of her hand a couple of feet away from them. 

Her energy wouldn’t last long, and he almost had her pinned down. Think, think, she had to think of how to get out from under him, something she never thought she had to deal with in all of their relationship.

“What the hell! You’re a Targ?” she yelled as they struggled.

“And what about you? You didn’t even give me your real first name, Miss Sansa Stark.” Sansa caught his eyes. He was pissed at being lied to, but hell so was she!

“It’s different. Targaryens are assholes and you know it.”

“And Starks are arrogant northern pricks.”

Oh, she could slap him silly. “What? Jon, you’re a northern prick! You grew up at Castle Black for gods sake.”

The Jon Snow that she married would have laughed at the irony. This Jon Targaryen barely smirked. But it was enough for her to wriggle out of his clutches, grab her gun and run towards the door. Jon would be on top of her in seconds. 

She turned around.

This was not the Jon she married, she reminded herself, as she pulled the trigger and utterly missed. 

Jon turned to the bullet hole a foot away from his head in complete disbelief. “What the hell was that! Did they not teach you how to shoot a gun in whatever assassin school you went to?”

“I told you I’m not an assassin! I’m a spy!” In truth, Sansa could barely pass any physical test and was only somewhat decent at running because of her long legs. But she definitely was not going to tell Jon that right now, or maybe ever.

Jon started walking towards them, until they both noticed the red laser dots that were covering the both of them. Oh shit.

Jon tackled Sansa to the ground. When the firing stopped, Sansa peaked over his shoulder at the carnage. Their apartment was utterly destroyed. 

“My kitchen!” Sansa shrieked.

“Are you crying?” Sansa sniffled, realizing that yes, she was crying over a gods damned kitchen.

“I fucking loved that kitchen Jon!” He gave the stupid look that he always gives when he wants to kiss her. It was a look of complete adoration, and damn her if she didn’t fall for it everytime. 

“Well I hope you love your life more because we need to get out of here.” Jon pulled her up roughly and they rushed out to their garage. He jumped into his black porsche. Sansa hated this car and the way that Jon fondly called it Rhaegar. Now everything made sense. What kind of government man could afford a porsche? 

Gods Sansa was an idiot, but she was thankful that they had a suitable getaway car. 

“Where are you going?” Sansa asked when her heart finally started slowing down. She watched Jon’s expressions carefully. She’s been married to this man for a year and a half, and she didn’t know him at all. She thought he loved her, but maybe she made it up in her head.

His face looked grim, but he was calm, steady. Just like she would expect from the Jon Snow that was the love of her life, but nothing about this night was going as she expected. “Going to one of my safe houses.”

Sansa frowned and shook her head. “No, they were after the both of us, we should assume that our safe houses may have been compromised.”

“Then where should we go?”

“Winterfell.”

Jon scoffed. “A little on the nose isn’t it, Miss Stark?”

“Well, it’s still Mrs. Snow, until the divorce papers come through.” Jon neither agreed nor disagreed, and it broke Sansa’s heart. “And even if we have enemies, Winterfell is a fortress. They wouldn’t dare.”

“Winterfell it is.”

There was nothing in the air except the sound of the car’s engine. They let it hang heavily between them. 

Sansa had so many questions, and she kept it all back, except, “Is Dany even your real sister?” She just had to know.

“No, technically she’s my aunt, but she’s also my handler.”

“I was hoping she wasn’t related to you. Gods Jon, it’s so  _ weird _ .”

Jon gave an exasperated sigh. “I know, we’ve talked about it, trust me.”

They arrived at Winterfell. It was gloomy inside, everything was covered and hidden away, and it felt haunted by Stark ghosts. Still, it was warm, just as warm as Sansa remembered. She hummed in contentment as she made her way through the great hall and to her childhood chambers, with Jon following carefully behind.

She had no idea what they were going to do. She didn’t know who was after them, if Jon was going to kill her for being a Stark spy. She didn’t know anything, but first things first. 

She sat on her dusty bed (after everything they’ve been through she could suffer through a little dust), and opened up her legs.

“Get down there. You owe me a gods damned orgasm.”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, getting down on his knees. Sansa’s cunt clenched at the reverent way he looked up at her, as he kissed up her inner thighs and sought her throbbing clit. 

“I am so divorcing you after this,” she hissed through the pleasure.

Jon pulled away slightly to scoff. “Like hell you are. Not after this orgasm you’re not.”

Sansa groaned when he put in two fingers in her. “You’re an asshole.”

He was grinning on her now. He gave a long suck, causing her hips to buckle up, before he pulled away. She whined in response. “But I’m your Targaryen asshole.” 

“I’m not forgiving you so easily for this.” She sat up on one elbow and grabbed the back of his head roughly to put him back on her aching cunt. 

“I didn’t think you would. The north remembers after all,” he said before he pushed her into an orgasm that she would most certainly remember. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Needed more belligerent Jonsa in my life. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
